The Great Wait for "Real Life" to Start

Since this is a blog about the year after college I figured it's best to be honest. I have no summer job. I have no car. I sit at home with my 14 year-old brother Monday through Friday. But, hey, I'm not complaining. I've never been more relaxed. I've made some positive changes so far - and it's only June! I decided to go gluten-free, discovered I needed glasses, and embarked on an 18-hour road trip with my best friend. In case anyone was wondering - and I highly doubt anyone is - here's my life. (You're welcome.)

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Preparing for Your Gap Year

This is it. You’re done with school. Now is the perfect opportunity to get the wild hairs out of your system before you get settled into a typical "adult" routine.

There are a lot of outlets for young people to gain real-world experience in non-traditional ways after college, like teaching abroad, becoming an au pair, or volunteering across the world. 

I took the teach abroad route for my first post-grad adventure, and you don’t have to have any teaching experience to be accepted. You generally only need a four-year degree from an accredited university and speak English as your native language.

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On Finding Your Calling

When I was in elementary school, I desperately wanted to be a teacher. For hours on end, I would stand in front of my four-legged whiteboard easel, writing out various math problems for my imaginary students to solve. When friends came over to play, they'd sit at my feet with a pile of coloring books and puzzles, ignoring my every attempt to teach them the vocabulary word of the day. To put it bluntly, I was a nerd. The kid who begged their parents for a pair of reading glasses and read the Children's Dictionary for fun. (I still remember the first word on Page 1—aardvark—because I was fascinated by its ridiculous double-A spelling. Why not just name it an ardvark?)

I might have been a bit eccentric as a kid, but by the time I was ten, I had found my calling.

At least, for a little while.

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The Worst & Best Year of My Life: A Comeback Story

A few weeks ago, I stood on a sidewalk in New York City at 3 AM, smoking a cigarette.

I watched the glowing ember and smiled.

Sometimes, after long stretches of a remarkably steady life, I forget this part of myself. The part that tastes like gin and dances so very close to complete strangers. The part that lets her hair spill over her shoulders and sways to the rhythm of twenty-three. The part that gets her phone stolen and--when offered a cigarette to cope--laughs. Says yes for the first time.

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I Am Just A Writer

I am just a writer.

My elementary school teachers always commented on my natural knack for writing. I was the token essay editor in my apartment in college. I laced bits of lyrics together in my schoolgirl notebooks. I imagined miles of dialogue for characters who had yet to see the light of page.

But I have a confession to make: if you ask to see my writing, I’ll show you my “best material” that was written almost a year ago. And please don’t ask to see my recent material or you will be severely disappointed, because there isn’t any recent material good enough to present, because my recent material doesn’t exist.

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And That Has Made All The Difference

“The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost is a poem that I have heard at several graduations and events as a motivational addition, often including the lines from the last stanza: “two roads diverged in a wood, and I / I took the one less traveled by / and that has made all the difference.”

When I first heard this poem, I was completely oblivious (like always) to the true meaning of it. I thought: “what an amazing message: you should choose to be different from everybody else, I like, totally get it!” It wasn’t until later that I realized that I’m an English major who can’t understand poetry, and it’s tragic.

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It's Okay to Second-Guess Your Job

I accepted my first real job three months before I graduated college – way before the majority of my peers even started looking. My first reaction? I’m employed! In your face, statistics.  

My yearlong position will involve traveling about every six days and working with college women. I was ecstatic for the opportunity to work for a value-based company, spend a year traveling across the United States and use my skills to make a difference.

As time passed and my start date grew closer, I began to second-guess everything about the job I accepted months earlier.  

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Rainy Day Revelations

With the new Mumford and Sons album streaming through my ears (and still desperately wishing everyone was as passionate about this album as I am), I meandered through tree-shaded London streets, alone with my wandering thoughts in a city of seven million.

I returned to sit beneath a tree – my tree – on Primrose Hill, the city unchanged before me as the spring breeze carried shadows across the blooming city.

One year before, I had sat beneath this very same tree, the same skyline set within my eye line, wearily contemplating my “what’s next” after I returned home to the prospects of life post-graduation. Yet here I was - an entire year between that moment and this one - just as in the dark about what I’m doing with my life as I was then.

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If Not Now, When?

Yesterday I booked a flight to Dublin. This whole backpacking thing was turning into such a theory; I seriously needed to stop talking about it and just do it already. I found a bitchin’ round trip deal that will allow me three full weeks in Europe towards the end of the summer. For the most part, I will be alone. My mom does not know about any of this yet.

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True to Your Heart

Why is it so hard to follow your heart? Is it just me? Surely not.

We hear people telling us all the time to follow our hearts. I mean, I grew up listening to the lyrics of 98 degrees and the great Stevie Wonder from the Disney classic Mulan.

The older I get, the more I realize that Stevie has left me with a difficult task.

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Real World Says, "Ready or Not, Here I Come"

Here I am almost three weeks out of undergrad life and I have to be honest… I don’t really feel much different.

Yes, I packed up my college house of two years, said all my tearful goodbyes to some of the most amazing people I’ve had the privilege of calling my friends, tied up all loose ends and walked across that stage in my cap and gown to receive that coveted piece of paper (which ironically I won’t even receive for a few more weeks in the mail). Then, just like that, early the next morning the U-Haul was loaded, and I headed four hours south from Kansas to Dallas with my needy meowing cat, Calvin, in tow.

Why don’t I feel any different?

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Out On My Own

Throughout the years, I often found myself questioning my choice of school. My high school friends were meeting new people while traveling and living out of the country. They would come home with adventurous anecdotes while I felt stifled by the same small-town charm that once drew me in. I needed to try new things and make interesting choices of my own.  

Within six months, I changed my major, joined a sorority, traveled alone to Europe, and saw movies alone (yes, in that order).

These were the first steps that led me to make a huge, life-changing decision a few months ago.

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Murphy's Law: What Can Happen, Will Happen

As a twenty-something who is moderately to severely active on (read: addicted to) social media, I’m overwhelmed daily as I scroll through infinite purportedly uplifting articles about my generation: “20 Reasons Why Your 20s are the Best Years of Your Life,” “37 Ways to Turn Into Beyoncé” or “12 Random Quotes by Taylor Swift with Accompanying Pictures That Will Make You Wish You Were Her BFFL.”

On the flipside, I’ve also seen blog posts claiming that your 20s are actually required to suck, like it’s some unwritten rite of passage. Like if those years don’t make you want to shave your head Britney-style, you aren’t doing them right.

C’mon.

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